Time-Turner for Anne, please
by The-Word-Writer
Summary: Anne Potter always wanted to kill Voldemort. After all, didn't everyone? So it was no surprise when Dumbledore offered her a time-turner so strong that it could go back to Voldemort's school years to kill him she accepted with no hesitation. But Tom Riddle lures her inside his sick, twisted games and suddenly, instead of straight-up killing him she feels herself falling for him.
1. Chapter 1

Annabelle Potter walked through the corridors, anxiously biting her already-bitten fingernails.

The Headmaster requested to see her in the middle of the day, right before Ancient Runes. She could tell from the intensity of his tone that he was about to confide in her something important, but didn't he always?

But something in his tone made her wonder. He was _desperate, _for the first time ever- or, as Kit ever saw. He was always calm, collected Professor Dumbledore. He wasn't nervous. And yet it seemed like the matter held an utmost importance. It actually kind of freaked Kit out, a little bit.

She stopped in front of the Headmaster's door, letting her knuckles rap softly on the hard wood.

"Enter." Dumbledore's voice called out. Putting her hands behind her back, she entered the room, her long red shoulder-braid swinging to brush against her cheek as she did.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" She asked in a too-high voice, glancing nervously at her silver-haired Headmaster.

"Take a seat, Anne." He said in a low voice, conjuring a chair for her to sit upon. She sat down, sitting cross-legged as she mimicked her professor's pose. A heavy silence sat between girl-and-man.

"You're not wearing your glasses." Dumbledore finally said with a hint of surprise.

"I didn't see the point to wear them, sir, when I could put a spell on my eyes to see just as well as you." Anne said quietly. Dumbledore chuckled softly.

"Actually, my eyesight is diminishing in a quite alarming speed, and I'm afraid charms don't work on my old eyes anymore. A disadvantage of getting older, I suppose," He sighed heavily.

"You're not old," Anne said automatically. Dumbledore smiled at her. Another silence engulfed them.

"My dear girl," Dumbledore finally said after a minute of awkwardness, "I have been thinking. Over the years, all your pain and anger revolved around Voldemort. He killed millions, including your parents." He looked at her in pity as she flinched. "He is the cause of millions of deaths."

"He's just a side affect of dying." Anne said bitterly. Dumbledore considered her words.

"Yes and no. He's a side affect of dying, indeed. But then again, you can also say he is the disadvantage of life. But we are not here to debate on whether Voldemort is just another side affect or a disadvantage of life and death. We are here to talk about destroying him entirely."

Anne's jaw dropped.

"B-But sir, he's _impossible_ to kill,he has a whole _army_ of Death Ea-"

"I'm not talking about killing him in the present. I'm talking about killing him in the past."

"You've gone mad, sir." Anne said in disbelief, and then slapped a hand over her mouth. She was too rude for her own good. Dumbledore cocked his head to the side.

"Many believe so, but I believe that madness is just a state of mind. My mind has already reached madness a long time ago." Was it just Anne, or could she detect a hint of bitterness in his words?

"I have gotten hold of a year time-turner, if you can believe it." He held up an ordinary-looking Time-Turner, but instead of gold, it was bronze-colored. Anne gaped at her professor.

"It was the last one found when you went to the Ministry last year to save your godfather." Anne suddenly bit her lip and looked down as tears brimmed in her green eyes.

"The Ministry has allowed us to use it, with a great deal of persuasion on my part. And I am making the choice of giving it to you, to transport yourself to when Voldemort was younger and kill him."

"But sir," Anne said slowly, "if I do kill him, how will it affect the present?"

"Your parents will be alive and well- Sirius, as well as James and Lily. You will have prevented millions of deaths. _And, _you won't have that-" He brushed a strand of red hair on her forehead to show the lightning-shaped scar-"any longer. You'll have a perfect life."

"Mum and Dad can come back to life?" Anne's voice was strangled.

"Yes."

Anne eyed the Time-Turner hungrily.

"Give it here, sir."

"Wait, Anne. You must kill him and _come back here immediately. _Don't do anything but kill him and _come back home. _Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Anne mumbled, still gazing at the Time-Turner with sleepy green eyes. Dumbledore frowned.

"The fate of the world is in your hands, Anne. _Do you understand?"_

"Yes, I am perfectly aware! I'll kill him and then I'll come back here! Okay?!"

"20 turns should do it. And here," He handed her her Invisibility Cloak. "You can't be seen."

"How do you have that?" Anne asked suspiciously.

"Remember, 20 turns" was all he said in response.

Anne sighed and, draping her Invisibility Cloak over one arm, began to count.

"_I, 2, 3, 4…"_

**Hi, guys!**

**Hope you enjoyed this first chapter, I'll try to update regularly. Reviews are welcomed.**

**Love, hugs, and all that jazz, **

**Lyricalyrics**


	2. Chapter 2

"…_18, 19, 20- _got it- I got it, Professor!" Anne turned around to face Dumbledore just as a blinding light spread around the room.

_SPLAT!  
><em>

Suddenly, Anne wasn't in Dumbledore's office. She was lying on freezing cold stone, her cheek pressed to the ground as her long red hair splattered across the dark stony floor, giving off a faint glow in the darkness as the hairband sprung away.

She scrambled up on her knees, hugging the Invisibility Cloak to her fast-thumping heart. She seemed to be in a corridor. Several paintings eyed her with interest.

"Such pretty locks you've got there, girl." One painting wolf-whistled. Anne resisted the urge to stick her tongue out and hesitantly looked around. The walls were cold black stone, the paintings equally as gray as the walls, and there were several boys standing in the adjourning corridor, and an antique vase stood near the doorway of an empty classroom.

_Oh, shit. _Anne stood there in the corridor, frozen, as the boys looked at her with piercing eyes. Slytherins, she noted from their ties. _All-is-shit-all-is-shit-all-is-shit-all-is-shit-_

"Hello." A cold, pure voice suddenly echoed out. One of the boys stepped forward, and Anne's jaw dropped. He was gorgeous, with dark, thick black hair and equally dark eyes. He had high cheekbones and pale skin, and his nose made Anne green with envy. But there was something odd about him…

"You're Tom Riddle!" Anne gasped, gripping her Invisibility Cloak tightly. His eyes took in her untidy red hair, to her dark Muggle jeans and lousy tee-shirt advertising an old timey band she didn't even like anymore. Her hand inched to her wand.

Tom raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know my name?"

_Motherfucking shit._

"I'm, um, psychic. Yeah, I'm totally psychic. Like, ESP, you know?" Anne blabbered.

_Shut up, Anne._

"I do not know, since I've never had the pleasure of knowing my own future. What's your name?"

"Er… Anne… Peters. Yeah, Anne Peters. Nice too meet you."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Anne-Peters-who-is-psychic. Tell me, what is my future?"

_Easy. You become a Dark Lord who kills my parents, not to mention millions of others and you're like a sort of Hitler in the Wizarding Community._

"Don't try to follow the Dark, Mr. Riddle. It's not a wise place to go." Tom cocked his head and appraised Anne.

"You're Gryffindor."

"Yes."

"I've never seen you before."

"Is that so?" _Why is it so cold in this corridor? _

"I believe you are lying."

"Kudos to you."

"I can loosen her tongue, Tom." One of his followers cracked his knuckles, eyeing Anne hungrily.

"Oh, yeah? Well," She flipped out the middle finger, "FUCK YOU, BITCH!"

"Such lady-like behavior," Tom said dryly as the boy stepped forward modestly. "From such an eloquent young girl."

"Train your sexist, egotistical, perverted molester followers under control and we'll have it good."

"Followers?" Tom smiled at her, and her blood chilled.

"Psychic, remember?" Anne tapped the side of her head with her index finger.

"How could I forget?" There was an edge to his tone that she didn't like, not one bit.

"Tom, we should get going." A small voice piped up from his posse.

"Of course. Would you care to join us?" Tom asked Anne, his tone slightly mocking.

"Erm… no. I need to find the Headmaster, actually. So… see you around, Riddle... friends of Riddle…"

She ran off, thick red hair flying behind her.

**. . .**

Tom watched the odd girl go, a mixture of amusement and curiosity tumbling in his chest. She was a pretty thing, with her long thick red locks and her hazel-green eyes- not to mention those cute little freckles- but there was something off about her.

He felt a pull to her- not a romantic one- but as if a magnetic attraction was pulling them both together. He'd definitely noticed the scar on her forehead, but for some reason it made his eyes hurt when he looked at it.

She was lying about being a Seer, he could see tell. But how did she know so much stuff about him, and his Death Eaters?

Unless she was some sort of stalker, he liked to think that she was more than what she looked like.

"Er, Tom?" A low voice suddenly asked. Tom turned his icy gaze to Abraxas Malfoy, who was holding a shimmering cloak with one arm- _which completely disappeared._

Tom took the cloak from his follower, eyeing it with interest. It smelled like peppermint-_ Anne's shampoo. _

"How very interesting," He smirked. "It seems we have a lot to discuss with our little lioness."

**Hey, guys! I know this is really suck-ish and I'm in desperate need of a Beta-reader, so if you're interested please message me. Reviews are welcome!**

**Love, hugs, and all that jazz,**

**Lyricalyrics**


	3. Chapter 3

"You're not Dumbledore," Anne stated after seeing the old man on the threshold.

He frowned, his wrinkled features pulling down in a most hideous fashion.

"I'm Professor Dippet. And you are?"

"Anne Potter." She said flatly. "I've come from the future to kill Tom Riddle, who is going to become the next Dark Lord over the years and become the cause of millions of deaths."

"We have a lot to discuss, then." He gestured to inside of his office, and hesitantly she followed him inside.

It wasn't anything like Dumbledore's trinket-covered office. A thick red carpet led up to a large table with scattered papers and-

"Are those _peacock _quills?" Anne raised her eyebrows.

"Yes." The old man replied simply. "Sit, Miss Potter." He conjured up a chair for her to sit in.

He took a seat from across the table.

"So, who are you?"

"My name is Anne Potter. In the future, your charge- Tom Riddle- will become the next Dark Lord that only I can defeat. Dumbledore, my Headmaster, sent me here to kill him before he even gets powerful so I can spare millions of lives."

A heavy silence followed her words. Professor Dippet appraised her.

"I see. On that note, you'll need a House."

"_What _the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"You can't just kill Tom Riddle. He's much too powerful. I've seen it myself, when Dumbledore brought the boy here. No, he has to be vulnerable. And that'll take some time, dear."

"Oh, goblin crotch." Anne cursed. "I'm going to have to stay here?"

"Dumbledore should've thought it through." Professor Dippet shrugged.

"He thinks everything through, he-" Anne suddenly stopped, a horrible thought forming in her mind.

"He _wanted _me to stay here."

"Why would he do that?"

"How should I know?" Anne snapped. "It's Dumbledore, he's a mystery that can't be solved."

"Everyone can be solved, it just takes a little longer to do for some other people."

"Huh."

"You need to get Sorted." Professor Dippet said, standing up from his chair.

"But- But I'm in Gryffindor! I was already sorted!" Anne spluttered.

"You weren't alive here. You weren't ever Sorted, or at least in 1943 you weren't."

"Oh, mother hubbard." The girl moaned, looking down at her shirt advertising the Beatles.

"We need to get you proper clothes." Dippet frowned at her tee shirt and jeans. "You may be able to wear trousers in the future, but it's completely unacceptable for a girl to be so… _scantily-clad."_

Anne burst out laughing.

"You should see some of the stuff Lavender Brown wears. It'd give you a heart attack, if you think _this _is scantily-clad."

Dippet frowned.

"My heart shall stop working the day I see girls wearing men's clothes."

With that, he got up from his seat and got the Sorting Hat from a nearby shelf, placing it on Anne's messy red head despite her protests.

_**Potter!? What are you doing here?**__  
>Hey, I wasn't even born yet! How did you know it was me?<em>

_**My mind cannot be confused by the wavers of the space time continuum**_**, **_**I should've thought that everyone would know it. And I refuse to Sort a girl whom I've already Sorted before.**_

_You know, I never got why we need a Sorting Hat in the first place. It's like, 'because a school establishing cliques doesn't cause any problems'._

_**Hey!  
><strong>__You know it's true._

_**FINE, then I'm not going to Sort you. Or, better yet-**_

"GRYFFINPUFFINCLAW!"

Dippet stared at the hat like he'd never seen it before.

"May you repeat that, Sorting Hat?" He asked politely.

"I'm not going to Sort a girl I've already Sorted before. She belongs in no house, or, rather, every house. I see a true bravery in her, but her curiosity is a strong thirst for knowledge. She isn't very patient, but she would travel the world to save a friend. And her hobby of pranking can just as well be labeled as 'cunning'- and, she's very broody sometimes. My advice is to put her in each House, each week."

"B-But that's never happened before! She _has _to be placed in one House, and one House only!"

"She has different personalities that conflict with each other. I cannot just place her in _one _House."

"I'm not broody," Anne muttered angrily, biting her lip.

"But, she _can't-"_

"ENOUGH! I don't have time to conflict with an old man!"

"You have all of the time in the world!" Dippet exclaimed, grabbing the Sorting Hat off Anne's head, trying to locate its neck so he could strangle it. Anne bit her cheek so he wouldn't see her smiling.

The Sorting Hat went silent, and closed its not-really-eyes.

"Argh!" Dippet shoved the Sorting Hat back on its shelf, blood flushing to his wrinkled old face.

"He isn't like that in _my _time." Anne mumbled, playing with a long strand of curling red hair.

"Then consider yourself lucky, he's a real handful once you get to know him. Anyways, do you agree on his reasoning?"

"On what?"

"On how my robes seem ludicrous- on the House problem, of course! What else?"

Anne winced.

"Mother hubbard, you don't need be such a-"

She stopped at the professor's murderous look.

"Well, personally, _I _like the idea of experiencing each House and their own clique problems. Maybe I can turn it into a book: _The Sorting System: Accurate or Lame?"_

Dippet frowned.

"My Houses are certainly not disabled, thank you very much." He sighed. "Okay, then, you'll need to change at any rate."

He flicked his wand up. _"Accio witch's robes."_

A black blur suddenly flew inside the room, the doors opening with a large _Whoosh!, _as it did, and flew into Professor Dippet's arms.

"Here." He thrust the robes into Anne's hands. "Change and meet me in the Great Hall. You can sit at the Gryffindor table this week."

And with that, he began to walk out the door.

"Ow!" He suddenly stopped at the threshold. Anne looked up, alarmed. "Sir?"

"I just felt something brush against me…" He shrugged. "Probably just a case of old-man nerves." He walked out of the room.

Anne looked around nervously. Seeing no real danger, she stripped of her clothes and shrugged on her slightly-too-big black robes, stealing a longing glance at the jeans and tee shirt lying on the floor.

"I'll come back for you, John, Paul, Ringo, and George. I swear it."

With that, she sprinted out the door.

**. . .**

Anne took a deep breath as she opened the doors.

While she didn't really care what the others thought of her, she just didn't want to make a big deal out of her sudden appearance. And while she wasn't much, her wild dark red curls clashing with her black robes was certainly a sight to see.

She strode inside the Great Hall, shoulders back as her long hair bounced on their blades. Ignoring all the curious looks she was given, she took a seat at the Gryffindor table next to a brunette and her friends, all staring at her like she was some sort of alien.

Building up courage, she turned to the girl next to her and flashed a smile in her direction.

"Hi, I'm Annabelle Po- Peters, but you can call me Anne." She cursed herself as she stumbled onto her fake last-name, but the girl thought nothing of it as she gave the redhead a toothy grin.

"I'm Emily Smith. Nice to meet you, Anne! These are my friends, Chloe-" She pointed to a pretty, blue-eyed girl sitting next to her- "and Isabelle-" she gestured to an unfriendly looking ginger. "Say, are you new here?"

"Erm, yeah- I went to Beauxbatons for 4 years, just transferred here today, so…"

"Wow. You're really pretty! All of the Beauxbatons' boys probably liked you, whereas I'm about as attractive as a wet, smelly dog."

Anne laughed nervously.

"No! You're really pretty, too. And there isn't much boys at Beauxbatons, so they didn't have much to gawk at- and I'm not that pretty, anyways."

"No truer words had ever been spoken," Isabelle said dryly. Chloe gave her friend a glare, and then turned to Anne, smiling brightly.

"She can be a real prat sometimes, don't mind her. And you're gorgeous, so don't give me that pitiful 'oh, I'm so ugly' speech. Your hair is to die for, and I love your cheekbones."

Anne smiled shyly.

"Thanks, I guess. But enough of this beauty talk." She sighed. "It's making me want to barf."

"Speaking of beauty, there goes Riddle and his entourage." Emily eyed the handsome boy brushing past the Gryffindor table and sitting down with his pathetic band of midget Death Eaters.

"He's the devil in disguise," Anne said, eyes narrowing at her new friend.

"I know, I know," Emily snapped, "but he's so perfect to look at. It should be a sin to be so beautiful."

"Well, then," Chloe piped up, "have you looked at me? I'd go to hell, I think."

Emily grinned.

"Anne'd be an outlaw," She giggled. A ridiculous image of Anne having a shootout in the Wild West suddenly popped into the friends' heads simultaneously, and they burst into uncontrollable laughter- minus Isabelle, of course.

At the Head Table, Dippet got up from his seat and cleared his throat loudly to get his students' attention. Heads swiveled in his direction.

"Children," He began in a gravelly voice, "I have been wanting to discuss with you a matter that had bothered me for many years, and only now did the chance to bring it up with you has come to my aid.

"Dark times are coming, and although they seem far away, now you have the choice between doing what is right, and what is wrong. Many of you-" His eyes trailed to Riddle's direction- "are choosing the Dark between the Light. And while Darkness isn't necessarily a bad thing, some of you are choosing to take advantage of it. Beware of power, children. It will be the end of you."

On that light note, he sat down. Next to Anne, Emily bit her lip.

"Do _you _have any clue as to what he was talking about?" She asked her redhead friend. Anne shrugged.

"No idea."

**Hi, guys!  
>Thanks to my reviewers, I really appreciate you! And I'll try to update regularly, once again.<strong>

**Love, hugs, and all that jazz,**

**Lyricalyrics**


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